Waters of the Lethe
by 4th of Eleven
Summary: mShepard barely survived the suicide mission, and decides to take Morinth up on her offer.


Title: Water of the Lethe  
>Fandom: Mass Effect<br>Categories: mShepard/Morinth  
>Disclaimer: Mass Effect and all characters, locations, ect. remain the property of BioWare. No copyright infringement is intended.<br>Summary: mShepard barely survived the suicide mission, and decides to take Morinth up on her offer. Originally written for the ME Kinkmeme.

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><p>She had wondered why he had spared her. It angered her sometimes to think of it, that she had survived not because of her own skills, but only because of the mercy of another. He was just the sort, she'd thought, to feel pity even for a murderer like herself. Now, though, as she looked at him standing in the doorway of the observation lounge, she wondered if it was something more than his weak compassion that had led him to save her life. If, instead, he had been planning for this day all along.<p>

"I delivered my report to the Council." He said quietly. "Whether they listened to any of it…"

Silence filled the room. The whole ship was filled with silence now; she was used to solitude, but it still bothered her, knowing what had happened to the crew whose chatter had once filled the corridors. She stared at the human's face, seeing the pain in the eyes of the man who had led them to their deaths.

"It's over, then." She said finally.

"It's over." Shepard nodded. "I've sent messages to the families of… everyone who didn't make it back."

Quietly, he moved forward, sitting next to her on the couch. Hesitantly, he spoke again.

"You once mentioned, when this was over, we might… celebrate." He said, his expression unreadable.

"I did." She said. A tremble ran down her body at the thought; it had been a long time, longer than she'd normally gone without, and yet… there was something unsatisfying about this. "You understand what you're asking, don't you? If you ask this of me… you won't be leaving this room again."

"I thought you said I might be strong enough to survive." He said, the barest flicker of humour in his tone.

"I lied." She said simply, and he nodded.

"Good." He said eventually. Gently, his hand brushed against her face, as he moved towards her, his lips pressing against hers. "I want this." He said as they parted, a hint of his usual determination returning to his voice.

It had never been like this, she thought, as she pulled him back into an embrace, seeing the look in his eyes, to have a lover who was completely aware of her nature, who knew the truth about her and yet still came to her, calm and unafraid. For a moment, she was hit by a sense of loss as she realised she had finally found a lover who accepted her as she was, that she could have more with him than just transient and doomed lust, and she had the impulse to push him away, to stop him before he destroyed himself like a moth drawn to a flame.

The impulse faded, his hands already beginning to remove her clothes as he kissed her again hungrily, and she was lost in the moment as she tore at his clothes, hearing the sound of the fabric ripping as she pulled at the shirt that was the last barrier between them.

Roughly, she grasped at his naked body, pulling him close to her, feeling the warm hardness growing between his legs. She shivered as she felt his fingers running between the fronds of her head and down the back of her neck. "You're beautiful." He whispered, and again she was surprised to see the total honesty in his eyes, no hint of fear in his expression. She paused, hesitating again.

Seeing her slowing, Shepard moved faster, moving his head down to run his lips and tongue over her breasts. She gasped as she felt him work, a warm wetness growing between her legs. He glanced up at her, and she nodded, swallowing and feeling oddly nervous.

She cried out as he pressed into her, feeling his body thrust forward as her hips moved in rhythm. There was a desire growing within her, an overwhelming need for release, but she tried to control it, tried to prolong this moment just a little longer. She heard him groan, sweat running down their bodies as they moved.

"Now." He whispered hoarsely, grasping her hands as he stared deep into her eyes. As their fingers interlocked, she couldn't hold back her hunger any longer, and she felt a familiar electric shiver run down her spine as her eyes flashed black.

"Embrace eternity." She whispered, and a moment later she felt her mind penetrating his consciousness, her thoughts overwhelming his, and she groaned as she briefly touched the human's memories-

-Decades of loss washed over her as she experienced Shepard's life. Mindoir, Akuze, Virmire, watching friends die around him time after time, giving the orders to lead his soldiers to their deaths, and she flinched as she hit his memories of the Collector base, arriving too late to do anything but watch as his crew were torn apart to feed the Reaper's abomination, seeing his team cut down one by one around him, a small selfish part of him glad that she at least had survived, his deliverance, his escape from the pain of loneliness and loss-

And overlaying it all, the memory of floating alone as Normandy burned behind him, feeling his life fade away, the longing to return to that peaceful oblivion.

She swallowed, feeling his thoughts fade away, desperately calling forth memories of her own, forcing them into his mind. Pleasure, ecstasy, the legacy of centuries of unrestrained hedonism, the stolen pleasure of a thousand victims compressed into a single moment of mind-shattering delight. He gasped for a moment, a last spasm of movement from his body, and then he was still, a hollow emptiness in her chest as his thoughts fell silent.

Carefully, she pulled herself out from under his body, turning him over as she rose. His face was twisted in the expression of confused ecstasy she knew too well, but there was a look of peaceful contentment in his eyes, the usual haunted expression vanished. Gently, she closed his eyes.

"Find peace in the embrace of the Goddess." She whispered, an odd feeling washing over her as she rose, carefully redressing. She glanced at her mother's clothing in the corner of the room, and smiled slowly. She wouldn't need them ever again.

Quietly, she made her way through the Normandy's empty corridors, walking off the ship. A moment later, she was gone, lost in the bright lights of the Citadel.


End file.
